


Empath

by SinnohRemaker



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst and Suffering, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Violence, Flug enduring emotional torment and having breakdowns seems to be a common theme in my work, Gore, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, I’m so sorry for this, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Psychological Torture, Psycological Trauma, Torture, Vivisection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 08:48:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16238189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinnohRemaker/pseuds/SinnohRemaker
Summary: A precocious young hero breaks into the Black Hat manor in at attempted rescue mission, with emphasis on the word attempted. She fails quite miserably at saving Dr, Flug, and she is kept alive by then malicious master of evil for the sake of Flug trying his hand at a human vivisection. The torture doesn’t proceed as planned, however, and the torturer becomes the tortured in a surprising turn of events.





	Empath

**Author's Note:**

> CONTENT WARING FOR REALLY GRAPHIC GORE: YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Empath

A young super heroine awoke to find herself strapped to an operating table, shrouded in complete darkness. She cautiously strained her wrists and ankles against her bindings, and was disappointed to find they wouldn’t budge and inch. Her mind was racing a mile a minute, trying to piece together the memories that lead to her current situation. She winced as she recalled a rescue mission gone horribly wrong, mentally reprimanding herself for her failure. She’d been attempting to save Black Hat’s Organization’s resident scientist, Dr. Flug Slys, from the notorious Black Hat. It had been a risky venture and she’d known it, but her stubborn pride tended to get in the way of common sense at times. She’d managed to infiltrate the manor without tripping the alarm system, but she’d been spotted by the corporation’s main assassin, Demencia. She’d spared no time in pulling the alarm and activating the security measures, before proceeding to launch herself at the intruder. Luckily, she managed to defend herself for quite some time without sustaining too much damage. The young heroine’s superpowers were psychological in nature, and completely useless in a fight, but she was extensively trained in martial arts and was able to hold her own pretty well in a combat scenario. The lizard hybrid was sporadic and full of manic energy, swinging at the invader haphazardly with her mace, but she was able to counter with calculated and carefully timed attacks. Just as she was certain she’d be able to overpower the villain she was facing off against, Black Hat himself emerged from down the stairs. 

“Another hero...” 

He snarled, baring his emerald green fangs. 

“Tell me hero, what brings you to my humble abode?” 

He questioned, his deep frown splitting into a grin. 

“I’ve come to save Dr. Flug from your evil clutches!” 

She shouted, prepping herself to launch an all out attack at the demon. Her muscles tensed as inky black tendrils burst from his back, wriggling and writhing all around his body before shooting towards her. She yelped loudly as she was wrapped up in the shadowy coils, constricting tightly around her midsection. She began kicking and struggling wildly, trying desperately to pull herself free. Before her brain could even process any movement, she was violently hurled against the nearest wall. Her head smashed into it with a sickening crack, rendering her unconscious. 

She had absolutely no recollection of how she’d arrived in this unfamiliar laboratory after she’d been knocked out, so she could only assume it was Black Hat’s doing. She couldn’t help but wonder how it was possible she was still alive, especially after coming face to face with the monstrous eldritch abomination. The merciless demon was rather infamous for never leaving his captors alive, and for brutally annihilating his opposition without so much as a second thought. Those who got in his way were never seen or heard from again. Despite his terrifying reputation, it appeared she was still alive and relatively uninjured. Her forehead was badly bruised, and there was a little bit of dried blood matted into her hair, but besides that, she was completely unharmed. In the distance she could hear the gentle pattering of purposeful footsteps heading in her direction, her heart leaping to her throat as she heard them closing in on her. Her entire body went rigid, her hands balling into fists as a the quiet rhythm of footsteps approached the door. The door swung open, and she was confronted by a hunched silhouette, completely shrouded in the darkness of the dimly lit laboratory. As soon as the figure approached her, she was able to recognize him, with his bagged head and lab coat draped over his shoulders. 

“Dr. Flug?” 

She ventured, forcing her voice to stay even. He was clutching a clipboard close to his chest, and upon hearing her voice, he flipped back a few pages and began to read aloud. 

“Felicity May Davis, more commonly known by the superhero alias ‘Dawn Dreamer.’ Active member of the Astral Superhero League since 2009. Renowned for her powerful psychological superpowers and emotional battling techniques. Her tactics include using her opponent’s regrets and insecurities against them to convince them to abandon their evil ways. She is a strong proponent for the ASL’s villain reformation program, and has personally aided in the redemption of dozens of well known supervillains and anti-heroes.” 

He looked up from his clipboard, googles glinting in the dim overhead lights. 

“That’s you, I take it?” 

Felicity smirked, tilting her head to meet his gaze. 

“You take notes on me, Doctor? I’m terribly flattered.” 

The scientist remained completely unfazed by her teasing comment. 

“I keep a log on prominent supervillains and superheroes that are active in the modern international crime scene. It’s for our company’s database.” 

Her sly smirk widened into a wily grin. 

“You think I’m a prominent superhero? You’re making me blush.” 

He gave an annoyed sigh at this comment, setting his clipboard down by the operating table. 

“You needn’t gratify yourself, Mrs. Davis. Your status is of little importance to me.” 

He pressed a button on a remote control, causing the overhead light above her to brighten drastically. He stepped into the light, revealing a glowing green syringe from his pocket. 

“The only thing that matters right now is remedying your offense against my company, and your personal insult against me. You will pay dearly for your dire mistake.” 

He threatened, his tone of voice low. 

“What is that?” 

She inquired, refusing to take her eyes off the appliance in the doctor’s hands. 

“Oh, this?”

He responded, slight mirth in his voice ah his shifted it into his palm. 

“This is a specially formulated serum, designed to keep you alive and conscious despite shock, pain, or potential damage or disruption of internal organ function. In other words, it’ll prolong the torture you’re about to endure.” 

Without any hesitation, he jammed the needle into her throat and pressed down on the plunger, injecting her with the serum. She inhaled in sharply through her teeth, but refused to give him any more of reaction than that. 

“And what exactly does this torture entail?” 

She questioned, gazing up at him as he retracted the needle. 

“Since your superpowers are purely mental, I have no need to study your bodily structure. I’ll simply be performing a vivisection and testing your pain tolerance.” 

He began heading towards the back of the room in order to fetch some more tools, hands folded into his pockets and head hung low. Felicity performed a quick reading on the man, and found his heart rate was elevated and his body was shaking ever so slightly. He was nervous. 

“Whatcha got there?” 

She asked, craning her head to get a better look at the cart he was wheeling towards her. He parked it right next to the operating table she was strapped to, giving her an eyeful of the sharp tools on its surface, glimmering in the artificial light. 

“Just some necessary materials for the vivisection...” 

He murmured, cautiously plucking a scalpel from its designated spot. Felicity gulped, dreading the painful sensation of the sharp blade dragging across her skin. She’d have to work her magic, and fast. 

“So you mentioned that I committed some sort of transgression against you and your company. What exactly did you mean by that?” 

The scientist chuckled and shook his head, leaning in close to her. 

“I was informed by my boss that the reason you trespassed on company’s property was to ‘rescue me.’ I can assure you that your gesture was entirely unnecessary. I’m not being held captive, nor am I in any danger.” 

Felicity blinked, wide eyes peering up at the doctor. She turned her head to the side, trying to dislodge the strands of her pink and blue dyed hair that had become stuck to her face with sweat. 

“Then why on earth do you work for this heinous company?” 

She inquired, shifting uncomfortably as the blade grew close to her sternum. The scientist gave a disbelieving laugh, tightening his fingers around the scalpel in his hand in an attempt to keep himself steady. 

“Oh, I don’t know! M-maybe it’s because I’m actually a villain!” 

He stated sarcastically, visibly rolling his eyes from behind his heavy duty googles. He cut her lace blouse from the nape of her neck all the way down to her hips, effectively slicing it in half. He left her bra and ruffle skirt in place, feeling awkward about depriving her of all of her clothes.

“Do you know what initially compelled me to try and save you from this place?” 

Felicity asked innocently, giving the scientist above her a coy smile, as if she wasn’t about to be cut open and dissected. 

“How could I possibly know?” 

He murmured, fidgeting with his bulky yellow gloves. 

“I was attending a meeting at the League, analyzing the advertisement footage from Black Hat Organization. The higher ups were picking apart Black Hat’s every word, movement and gesture, but I found myself more drawn to you.” 

She paused for a brief moment, her green eyes locked onto his masked face. 

“As soon as you appeared on the screen, I became overwhelmed by a miserable and anxious energy, emanating from you. Even now, I can sense it radiating from you, although to a lesser extent. I couldn’t get the desolate sadness you exhumed out of my head. I needed to pinpoint it’s source within you, or I feared it would drive me crazy.” 

The doctor gave her a puzzled look, narrowed eyes staring down at the girl restrained below him. 

“Your concern for me is rather, uhm, touching, I suppose, but entirely misplaced. I can assure you that I’m perfectly fine.” 

He made a small incision near her breastbone, reveling in the way the cocky hero flinched and gritted her teeth together. 

“But if that’s true, how is it possible that I’m detecting such a negative aura surrounding you?” 

The scientist shrugged, wiping some blood from his rubber gloves onto his lab coat. 

“Are you happy here, Dr. Flug?” 

She pushed, her tone casual and chiding. Her trademark self-satisfied grin returned to her face upon seeing him shrink away, awkwardly dodging the question. 

“O-of course I am. Why w-would I ever want to be anywhere else?” 

Felicity mentally noted that his stuttering was noticeably worsening, and his heart rate was steadily rising. He was being pushed out of his comfort zone by her goading, which was exactly where she wanted him. He was in his most vulnerable state when he was uncertain and afraid, and his psyche would be easily affected by the extent of her powers. 

“Are you emotionally and intellectually fulfilled by the work you do here? Are you proud of what you do?” 

She queried, her jade green eyes brimming with faux innocence. He was no longer making eye contact with her at this point, his eyes fixated on the tile floor. 

“I get to p-pursue scientific excellence without being r-restricted by the limitations of the law. I can b-build to my heart’s content and p-push the laws of reality with my research. It’s everything I ever d-dreamed. Of course I’m satisfied...” 

He stammered, pressing his hands to his chest defensively. Felicity could sense an inkling of dishonesty in his voice as he trailed off, nervousness pouring off of him in waves. 

“How does your boss treat you?” 

She questioned, changing the subject somewhat. 

“You always seemed the most uncomfortable in the advertising footage whenever Black Hat was present.” 

The scientist visibly stiffened as soon as the hero uttered his boss’s name. He drew his shoulders in protectively, looking somewhat tense. This slight change was not lost on the young hero. She lifted her head up and grinned sheepishly, reveling in the way her powers were beginning to affect her tormentor. 

“Wh-what kind of a question is that?” 

He faltered, an uncertain intonation in his voice.

“It’s a question you seem to be avoiding, simply put.” 

Felicity responded, a remarkably smug cadence behind her words. 

“Not that it’s any of your b-business, but he treats me fine.” 

The final word of his sentence was forced out through clenched teeth, but the inventor hoped it was convincing. His blatant lie was easily detected by the perceptive hero, her forest green eyes darkening as her arrogant smile remained, unaffected. 

“Fine, meaning that he frightens you to the point of hysteria? I wonder why that might be.” 

She murmured, an underlying insolent lilt in even the quietest of words. Without warning, Flug plunged the scalpel into her upper abdomen, imbedding it deep into her skin. She let out a yelp, and bit her lip to prevent herself from screaming in pain. 

“I told you, he treats me just f-fine. I just don’t want to d-disappoint him, that’s all.” 

Flug assured, smiling a little as the brazen, obnoxious girl was rendered silent by his administrations. He pulled the blade out with a sickening squelch, blood oozing from the open wound. 

“Isn’t that’s all you ever do? Disappoint him? He’s never once been contented with your work, and you know it well.” 

Felicity panted, struggling to get the words out through all of the pain she was enduring. 

“You’ve got a l-lot of nerve, I’ll give you that. Keep your commentary to y-yourself, or you’ll end up regretting it.”

Flug warned, jamming the scalpel back into her flesh. He tugged the blade downward, creating a giant gash and opening up her midsection. Felicity gagged, doing everything in her power to keep from screeching in agony. 

“Other villains have done worse. You don’t scare me.” 

She rasped, coughing up a little bit of blood. She blinked the tears that were beginning to cloud her eyes away, swallowing that lump in her throat. She could regain control of the situation. She knew the perfect way to make the scientist’s skin crawl. 

Faux compassion.

“You don’t have an intimidating bone in your body, doctor. The only emotion you incite in me is pity. I can’t help but feel bad for you. It must be heartrending, pouring your heart and soul into your life’s work, only to be hated and treated like absolute shit by your boss.” 

Flug yanked the blood-soaked scalpel out of her stomach, placing it carefully back on the tray. 

“He do-doesn’t h-hate me...” 

Flug stammered, lowering his head and refusing to look at the hero. 

“You’re right. I think he loathes you. Despite all of your years in his employ, he still berates and mistreats you. It must hurt, knowing he’ll never be proud of you.” 

Flug subtly shifted his jaw beneath the bag, shocked at the audacity of the woman behind him. He grabbed a pair of forceps with trembling hands, turning on his heel and looking directly at the hero. She was grinning. 

“It d-doesn’t bother me. You d-don’t know what y-you’re talking about.” 

Flug muttered, searching his mind desperately for a better retort. 

“It’s something you seem to be quite used to, I imagine. You must be terribly accustomed to being underestimated and hurt by those you look up to. No wonder you’re so complacent with it.”

She waited for a response, but he remained uncharacteristically quiet. She giggled at this revelation, delighting in his disbelief and discomfort. 

“Ah, it seems I struck a nerve. How about we discuss something else? Why don’t you tell me about your childhood?” 

She goaded, refusing to flinch away as he angrily impaled her already bleeding wound with the forceps. He cut away at the excess skin, peeling it off and setting it aside with his hands. She groaned and thrashed her head about, but managed to keep herself from crying out. This wasn’t her first torture session with an emotionally unstable villain. 

“That bad, huh? You must have been miserable growing up to end up this way.” 

Flug clumsily grabbed a few pins from off of they tray, contrasting with his previous methodical approach. She was slowly but surely working her way into his head, and she was going to wring his mind of all of his secrets like a wet towel. He was already mentally volatile, so it should be easy at this point. Using her superpowers, she pushed her way into his memories, carefully shifting through all of his life’s experiences. She couldn’t find the slightest hint of happiness anywhere. The further back she went, the worse it seemed to get. The scientist smashed his hands down on the side of the operating table, his entire body trembling.

“Stop it! I can feel you d-doing that! It’s incredibly invasive, so quit b-breaching my privacy and looking through my mind!” 

She flashed him a doe-eyed, ingenious look before her face split into a conceited, irritating grin. 

“Just as I suspected. Not a trace of joy, anywhere I look. How pitiful...” 

Flug slammed his fists down on the steel operating table, the clang of the metal echoing through the laboratory. 

“I d-don’t want your pity! Keep it t-to yourself!” 

He spat, voice heavy with venomous rage. 

“But I have so much pity to give!” 

She teased, smile unwavering even as he began shoving his hands into her guts and pinning the skin of her abdomen out of the way. He could hear her teeth grinding as waves of agony shot through her entire body. She writhed beneath him, her breathing reduced labored grunts and wheezes. She gasped as he pulled away, turning her head and coughing roughly, even more blood spilling from her lips. 

“Do you like hurting other people?” 

She croaked, her voice barely audible. It was kind of a redundant question, with her chest cavity cut open and her insides on display, but she asked it regardless. 

“Of c-course I do! I am a villain, after all.” 

Came his reply, short and snappish. 

“I can’t say I’m surprised. Where do you think those violent impulses come from? Do you think it’s possible that your bitterness and misanthropy is derived from any traumatic childhood experiences?” 

She paused, partially for dramatic effect and partially so she could take a breath.

“Do you think your desires to cause harm to others come from a misplaced sense of hatred at the world that warped you into the person you are today?” 

Flug snatched the scalpel from the tray and shoved it into her exposed ribcage, trying to see if he could pry her bones apart and rupture her lungs. 

“Stop t-talking about m-my childhood as though you know fucking anything about me!” 

He demanded, fighting against the spraying torrents of blood that gushed from her. She couldn’t help but shriek as blood spurted everywhere, coating all of her clothes and surroundings in a thin layer of red. Once the bleeding died down, she calmed herself, doing her best to regain her composure. 

“You’re pretty easy to read, for the record, so don’t give yourself that much credit. I know your type. You do evil because cruelty befits you, and because it serves as an applicable outlet for your aggression. You aren’t evil for evil’s sake.” 

Flug huffed, and peeled off his blood stained gloves. They were too slippery to work efficiently, anyways. 

“You’re j-just making assumptions...”

He countered weakly, shoulders slumping in defeat. 

“Although, I suppose your use of sadism as a coping mechanism makes sense in context. Your propensity towards wickedness is highly circumstantial. You just want to feel important, so you can convince yourself that your existence is worthwhile. You don’t mind that you’re being used, as long as you’re not being abandoned and thrown away.” 

Flug made an incomprehensible noise of astonishment, and folded his arms over his chest.

“I-I-I’m not b-being used! I’m p-perfectly capable of d-discerning my own position in life, so stop b-babbling about n-nothing!” 

Felicity closed her eyes and shook her head, before giving him another self important smile. He was tempted to punch that look off of her face before she could open her mouth to speak, but found himself too late when she began to chastise him once again. 

“Then why can’t you ascertain that with any amount of confidence? Do you have no self-assurance whatsoever?” 

Flug said nothing, just stared blankly at the blood spattered floor with glassy eyes. 

“I thought so.” 

She continued, voice gentle almost as if she was trying to lull him to sleep. She pressed her way back into his mind, sifting through his memories as if she were sorting files. 

“I have a theory as to why that might be. I can tell that many pieces of you died in the home you grew up in. Your sense of morale was the first to go. You like to think you were born a bad person, but that’s not entirely accurate. Everyone is born with the propensity to harm others, but this is balanced out with a compulsion to do good. Your willingness to be ethical and decent were strangled out by the harshness of the world around you. You were simply molded into what you are now by your past.” 

Flug shoved a hand beneath the bag and dug his fingernails into his scalp, breath hastening. 

“I’m n-not going to l-listen to your virtuous bullshit! I have no n-need for your heroic ideology, so I don’t w-want to hear it anymore!”

He shouted, visibly shaken and upset. He began to slice through her organs haphazardly with the forceps, not caring if he accidentally killed her too early. 

“My words only infuriate you so much because you can detect hints of truth in my ‘virtuous bullshit.’ You only find pleasure in this because you hate yourself so much you need to take it out on others in order to feel whole.” 

She lectured, raising her voice so she could be heard over the disgusting noises of him goring her. He stopped abruptly as soon as she was finished, allowing the forceps to clatter to the floor. 

“I don’t h-hate myself. I do-don’t! I’m p-perfectly happy, honest! As a m-matter of fact, I’ve never b-been happier!” 

He gripped the fabric of his lab coat with his bloody hands, staining the pure white fabric deep crimson. His lip wobbled, his whole body quivering slightly. He was self aware enough to realize he was lying to both her, and himself when he insisted that he was happy. He wasn’t. He knew he wasn’t. He just didn’t want to accept it. 

“How horrible...” 

Felicity whispered, genuine sorrow behind her words. She didn’t sound like she was trying to mess with him. Just being vulnerable and honest, a rare experience for her. 

“Is this really as good as it’s going to get for you? Is this the best you’ve ever had? I can’t even imagine how disconsolate you must have been before...” 

She trailed off, diverting her eyes from the scientist’s shaking form. 

“Knock it off! I already t-told you, again and again, I’m absolutely fine! There’s n-nothing wrong with me! I’m psychologically sound, d-despite your implications! You m-might be hesitant to believe me, b-but my mental health is better than it’s ever been.” 

Felicity noticed him tugging at the sleeves of his coat, pulling them up past his wrists. She’d assumed that him fidgeting with the fabric of his clothes was just a nervous tic, but suddenly, she felt as though she’d made a breakthrough. She couldn’t help but smile as she locked her eyes onto his concealed face, ready to tear his feeble defenses apart. 

“Doctor Flug, if you are truly as happy as you pretend to be, then can you do me one tiny favor? Would you mind rolling the sleeves of your lab coat up, just a little bit?” 

Her suspicions were all but confirmed as Flug’s arms dropped to his sides, limbs going slack. His hands clenched into tight fists, an unseen scowl upon his face. 

“Shut. Up.” 

He growled, his quiet tone barely concealing his outrage. 

“Is there a reason as to-“ 

“I SAID SHUT UP!!” 

Flug roared, startling the hero with his intense wrath. She was stunned into silence if only for a brief moment, by his sudden change in demeanor. The laboratory was bathed in an eerie quiet hum, leaving both of its occupants with time to comprehend the gravity of what had just happened. Felicity was the first one who was compelled to break the stillness, although her words were gentle and soft. 

“I think I’ve got you figured out.” 

Felicity concluded, her voice barely a whisper. 

“You don’t have any self worth at all, do you? You don’t value yourself even a little bit. You yearn desperately for approval, but nothing seems to pacify you. You despise yourself so much that you turn to self destructive behaviors to numb the pain of your everyday life. You’re constantly scrambling to find a purpose for yourself, plagued by an insatiable need to feel wanted by anyone. You seek the approval of others constantly, hoping that their attention can stave off your inevitable nervous breakdown. You measure your worth in proximity to your usefulness to that boss of yours. You’d skin yourself alive if he asked you to. But that will never make you happy. You are deeply, hopelessly miserable in a way that nothing will ever fix. And I feel sorry for you.”

Her voice slowly increased in volume as she continued to speak, watching as the scientist took it all in. The light reflecting off of his googles made his expression unreadable, but she could sense his shock. Those emotions quickly became a whirlwind of anger as he aggressively grabbed the scalpel, knocking several other tools off the tray. He pointed the sharp blade at her throat, causing her whole body to go rigid.

“You d-don’t know when to k-keep your damn mouth shut, do you? How about I m-make it impossible for you to ever t-talk again?! Maybe that would t-teach you a lesson!”

He snarled, passionate rage bubbling up in his chest. She gave him a sympathetic look, completely ignoring the weapon pointed against her jugular. 

“Flug, I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve to go through all of the trauma you’ve endured. Nobody deserves that. There are healthier ways for you to cope with your issues. You’ll be so much happier in the long run if you abandon this lifestyle and live out your life as a law abiding citizen. Maybe you could even put your genius to good use, and aide society with your inventions. You’re brilliant, and you deserve so much better than the pain you’re always in.” 

Flug gave a disconcerting laugh, breaking through her skin and allowing a small bead of crimson to form on her neck. 

“Your m-mind games aren’t going to w-work on me! I’ll kill you! I’ll m-make you regret ever being born!” 

He thundered, gripping her shoulder with his empty hand and shaking her wildly. 

“I want to help you. I want you to believe you are worthy of love. I want you to recover from the horrible experiences you’ve been through. You’re a good person, deep down inside. I know you are. You just have to take the first step.” 

Flug screamed viciously, and reached his hand back in order to stab her. 

“Flug, I-“ 

Her words were just off by Flug plunging the blade into her throat, causing blood to spew out like a fountain. He skewered her neck all the way through, basking in the strangled gurgling noise she made as she died. He thrust his knife into her body again and again, his mind going hazy through the delirium. When he came to again, he was standing in front of her mutilated corpse, her upper body completely mangled and destroyed. Her face was still in tact, her perfectly preserved eyes were dull and glassy. However, a slight smirk still graced her lips, even in death. She was still smiling. 

Flug turned away from the mess he had created, slinking to the floor as he leaned up against the operating table. He curled his knees into his chest, overwhelmed by panic and self-loathing. He slipped a red-stained hand under his bag and pressed it against his face, and found that his cheeks were wet with tears. He gave a sob, rocking back and forth in a half hearted attempt to soothe his aching heart and frantically racing mind. He was ashamed of how easily she’d picked him apart, forcing him to admit things he’d swore he’d take to his grave. He felt incredibly vulnerable and weak, knowing he’d spilt his secrets so easily, with scarcely even a struggle. He didn’t want to admit his problems. He was much more comfortable pushing them to the back of his mind and ignoring them, hoping they’d go away or he’d somehow forget. He knew his memories would always haunt him, but he wanted to keep that pain to himself. He wanted to be self reliant. Or maybe he really did hate himself, and he just wanted to suffer alone. 

He knew the deceased hero couldn’t do anything to hurt him now. Her consciousness was destroyed as soon as he killed her, and nobody alive was aware of his debilitating weaknesses and faults. He repeated this mantra in his head Ad Nauseam, trying to convince himself to believe it.

“I’m f-fine. I’m perfectly fine. She’s d-dead. She can’t hurt me.” 

He whimpered, voice thick with emotion. But he couldn’t find the strength within himself to believe it. He wept loudly and shamelessly, finding comfort in his desolate loneliness. Nobody could fix him. It was impossible to save him. He was too far gone. Nothing could stave off the paranoid thoughts that tormented him day and night, making his life a living hell. He’d never find purpose or fulfillment, and he’d feel worthless and insignificant for the rest of his days. He would only ever feel useful when he was being used, and he’d be complacent with being controlled and manipulated. He would revel in his own pain for eternity, and crave abuse and anguish, because he knew he deserved it. Self destruction would always beckon him, and the desire to end his own life would never go away. He would never find love or happiness, because he knew he didn’t deserve it. He wasn’t good enough. 

“I c-can’t do this. I don’t w-want this anymore. Please make it stop...” 

He bawled, attempting to wipe away the tears and snot that covered his face. He felt guilty for being so dejected, as he didn’t even deserve the luxury of being able to release his pain. It was better for everyone around him if he kept it bottled up and never addressed it. He was acting like such a pathetic waste of space. He was so inadequate, such a disgusting burden. He wanted to crawl into a hole and die, or maybe hurt himself or someone else. He couldn’t find the emotional energy to do either. He just sobbed breathlessly for what felt like an eternity. After some time, the steady clack of dress shoes against tile approached the lab, progressively getting louder and louder. Flug barely noticed, as he was too caught up in his own thoughts to fully react. The lab door creaked open, and Black Hat appeared, stepping out of the shadows into the light. 

“Doctor Flug...” 

He murmured, carefully approaching the crying man. Flug looked up, trying to still his breathing and calm his crying. His paper bag was falling apart, drenched with tears and blood, causing it to stick to his face. He sniffled and tried to stand up to face his boss, but the demon raised a hand, gesturing for him to remain sitting. 

“Flug, you’ve done well. You should be thrilled. Why are you so upset?” 

He questioned, his voice uncharacteristically subdued. 

“I-I’m s-s-sorry...” 

Flug hiccuped, trying to manage the simple action of explaining himself.

“What for? You carried out the torture and execution splendidly.” 

Normally the praise would make him beam with pride, but he couldn’t handle it in his current emotional state. His clasped a hand over his mouth and gave a muffled sob, his crouched form quaking violently. 

“I f-fucked up. I a-al-always fuck up...” 

A tremulous gasp rushed air through his words, and he continued to ugly cry into his hands. 

“No you didn’t. You should take some pride in a job well done.” 

Flug shook his head, posture tensing. 

“N-no, she’s right. About e-ev-everything. I’m j-just a worthless f-failure. I’ll n-never be happy. I don’t deserve to b-be happy.” 

He rambled, his words warbling with sadness and shame. Black Hat cautiously took a few steps towards him, and bent down to rub his shoulder. Flug suddenly launched himself at his boss, clinging on desperately to the fabric of his dress pants. 

“There’s s-something w-wrong with m-me, jefecito...” 

Flug croaked, unable to control his rapid breathing as he wept. 

“I’m s-sick in the head. I w-want to slice my arms open. I want t-to bleed out and d-die.”

He looked up at his boss with pleading eyes, sniffling and hiccuping as he continued to speak. 

“I n-need you to get rid of me. Throw me away or k-kill me, I don’t care. I don’t want to l-live like this anymore. Everything hurts. I’m not good enough to w-work here. I d-don’t deserve it.” 

Sighing, Black Hat knelt down and wrapped his arms around Flug. He was always hesitant to do this, but sometimes, it was the only way he could console him. 

“She’s a filthy liar. You should know better than to believe something like that. You’re so precious to us all. Nothing would be the same without you. You aren’t worthless. We all need you.” 

He rubbed circles into the man’s back, trying to relieve him of the built up tension. Shifting his hands carefully, he scooped Flug up into his arms, lifting the skinny man up with ease and cradling him into his chest like a child. He peeled the remnants of the paper bag off of Flug’s head, and began to stroke his fluffy brown hair. Flug was still shaking hard, muffling his broken, tearless sobs into the fabric of Black Hat’s suit. 

“You’re going to be ok, Flug. I promise, everything is going to be ok.” 

Flug curled in on himself like a wounded animal, choking down gasped breaths and whimpering pitifully. He turned his head and looked up at Black Hat with big, bleary eyes and reached a trembling hand up towards his face. His bruised knuckles traced against Black Hat’s cheek, causing the demon to sigh and lean into the touch. 

“S-sir... You’re s-so g-g-good to me... So good... I don’t d-deserve it...” 

Flug rasped, wrapping his arms around Black Hat’s neck and burying his face into the juncture of his shoulder. The monster tilted his scientist’s head back with a firm grip on his scarred chin, peering deep into the young man’s tear-filled hazel eyes. 

“I want you to listen to me very carefully.” 

Black Hat murmured, leaning closer to Flug until the quivering inventor could feel the demon’s inhuman cold breath upon his lips. 

“You deserve the whole damn world. Never tell yourself you deserve anything less. Please remember that.” 

And without another word, Black Hat pressed a kiss onto Dr. Flug’s mouth. He made a quiet noise of surprise, but returned the gesture regardless. After a few moments, Flug pulled away, panting and breathless. 

“G-god... I d-don’t know what I’d d-d-do without you, Jefecito...” 

Flug whispered, sighing as Black Hat nuzzled his head into the crook of his kick and kissed him hard. Flug leaned backwards, and ended up scooting directly into a pool of fresh blood. The russet red stained the crisp white fabric of his lab coat, and Flug yelped quietly in alarm. 

“W-we should probably clean up the b-body.” 

Flug murmured, rubbing underneath his eyes and wiping his tear gilded face clean. Black Hat nodded wordlessly, and the two began to tend to the mutilated corpse on the table, mopping up the blood hand in hand.

**Author's Note:**

> I figured I’d post this oc-centric oneshot before posting the very first chapter of my next multi-chapter Villainous fic. It’s going to be called “A Chronological Anthology of Obscure Sorrows” and it’s going to be even more angst heavy than Incarceration was, so buckle up. 
> 
> It’s going to get really heartbreaking from here on out.


End file.
